


Reunion

by Liadt



Category: Rising Damp (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Canon, pushing past the boundaries of feasibility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22496419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liadt/pseuds/Liadt
Summary: Alan had moved out to live with his girlfriend. It wasn't what he wanted and now he's back at the boarding house.
Relationships: Rupert Rigsby/Alan Moore (Rising Damp)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Reunion

Standing on the pavement, surrounded by his belongings, Alan waved goodbye to his mate who had given him a lift in his car. Alan turned to face Rigsby’s boarding house. He’d left a year ago to move into his girlfriend’s flat and now he was back after breaking up with her. Most would regard it as a backward step, going back to be single again and renting a pokey room as opposed to a whole flat. The flat was over a noisy takeaway, but the landlord was absent and Alan and his ex did as they pleased. Alan, however, was glad to be back, interfering landlord and all. 

The old place didn’t look any different: would the people inside be the same? Alan didn’t think he’d changed much, having a serious relationship hadn’t made him any the wiser in negotiating matters of the heart. Perhaps, wisdom could only be gained after ten wives?

Alan knocked on the door as he no longer had a key. There should be someone in. He’d told Rigsby when he was coming. When he’d phoned Rigsby, the landlord had been surprised he’d wanted his room back. The only other person to ever return had been Ruth. He hoped that wasn’t the only reason that would make him memorable to Rigsby. 

The front door opened.

“Rigsby!” said Alan, joyfully and sprung forward to envelope him in a hug.

“Is this the new way of greeting? Over enthusiastically?” said Rigsby with an embarrassed laugh caused by Alan’s behaviour.

“I’ve not seen you for a year.” Alan relaxed his hug, but left his hands resting lightly on Rigsby’s arms. He didn’t want to let him go, really. “You haven’t changed.” And he hadn’t: he was wearing the same holey cardi, frayed shirt and old fashioned trousers.

“You have. If your hair gets any shorter, you’ll be a skinhead,” said Rigsby, disapprovingly. 

“I thought you’d be pleased. You kept going on at me to get it cut.” Alan felt a flutter of excitement at Rigsby noticing his hair and that he didn’t seem to mind Alan’s hands on him. 

“It’s gone from one extreme to another. You don’t have any skinhead mates have you? Because they’re not welcome here.” said Rigsby, anxious. He didn’t want a load of thugs wrecking the place. 

“You know me: I’m a lover not a fighter.”

“Can’t say you were either last time you were here.”

Alan smiled at his disparaging comment and said warmly, “I did miss you, you know.”

Rigsby stepped away from him. Did Alan notice a touch of colour in his cheeks, as he looked away? There was an awkward silence, as he peered round at the pile of cardboard boxes and suitcases behind Alan, trying to think of a reply and cleared his throat, “Harrumph, the amount of belongings you own has changed too. No wonder you were acting pleased to see me with that lot to cart about. If you were expecting any help from me lugging it upstairs you won’t get it. My back’s playing up.” Leaning forward, he then put on a limp and hobbled into his room.

“I don’t want you to carry my boxes!” said Alan to the closed door. Was Rigsby running away from his show of affection or his stuff? 

“Alan!” came a shout from up the stairs. It was Philip coming down to meet him followed by Ruth. They said their hellos and offered to help Alan carry his things up. Ruth, as a lady, was charged with carrying the most precious and delicate items, like Alan’s teddy bear. 

* * * *

When Alan’s belongings had been dumped in the centre of the attic room, they sat down and drank the beers Philip had bought to both celebrate and commiserate Alan’s return. 

“I hope you don’t mind me taking up half the room again. It looked empty without my stuff and now it’s crammed full,” said Alan, perching on his old bed. 

“It’s no hardship, once I get the results from my finals I’ll be moving. I’ve had a job offer from Bristol council on condition I achieve a first which I should do,” said Philip and no one else doubted it either. 

“Bristol, that’s far,” said Alan. He’d be sad to see him go. If only other degrees were the same length as medical ones.

“I’ll give you an address for a visit, if you ever need a break from here and Rigsby,” said Philip with a grin.

“I don’t need a break, but, yeah, I’d like to keep in touch, ta,” said Alan. He would feel offended at the slight against Rigsby, but he didn’t think other landlords spent as much time involving themselves in their tenants lives’ so he understood Philip’s views.

“Can I visit too? I often feel I need a break from Rigsby, he can be overpowering in his attentions, and to think I nearly married him,” said Ruth.

Some beer went the wrong way down Alan’s throat making him cough and splutter, “What?”

“It’s true, but I couldn’t go through with it. Marriage should be for love, not because you don’t want to be alone. It’s not fair on the other person.”

“No, it’s not,” agreed Alan. That was a turn up for the books: he could have moved back for nothing if Rigsby had wed. If, as he thought, Rigsby secretly felt some affection for him that was his competition out of the way. He did feel sorry for Ruth for not having a bloke. He’d try and find a nice Doctor for her at the university hospital. 

“If you feel down about your romantic disappointment my door is always open,” said Ruth. “After I had to move back in it made me depressed. I had to get a pair of pink glasses to go with my blue ones.” Ruth gave Alan a sympathetic look and reached across to put her hand on his knee.

“It’s OK, I’m fine, genuinely. The flat was nice, but it just wasn’t right between us.”

“Oh dear, I’m still sorry for you,” said Ruth.

“Hopefully, the experience will have given you confidence,” said Philip, finding a bright side.

“It was funny, because not only was she beautiful -- I got lots of envious looks with her on my arm -- she was funny and clever too. The perfect woman, in fact. I don’t think I’ll find one better, but we never really clicked, y’know,” Alan paused, embarrassed, but the alcohol had loosened his tongue, and added “In the bedroom.”

“You can’t expect everything to be perfect in a relationship,” said Philip.

“I thought it’d be great once I moved in. No interruptions, no distractions, just her and me and then there would be plenty of fireworks, but there wasn’t.” 

“Sex isn’t like it is in romantic novels and films,” said Ruth, her voice expressing the disappointment of experience. 

“Perhaps, there wasn’t anything wrong, you’d just set your expectations too high, like Ruth said, there’s a difference between reality and fiction,” said Philip, trying to advise his less worldly friend. 

“We’d have been better staying as friends. I felt guilty getting off with her because someone else kept slipping into my head when we were doing it. It wasn’t normal,” said Alan, frowning. 

“We’ve all had it happen to us sometimes, usually some gorgeous movie star pops in to my head,” said Ruth.

“Not at all weird,” said Philip. 

“It is if you’re thinking of someone of the same sex,” said Alan.

Ruth opened her mouth in an ‘O’ of surprise. 

“That’s an impressive feat of imagination. Are you saying you’re gay?” asked Philip. 

“Dunno, but I can’t be straight can I?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” said Philip.

“You’re free to be who you want to be,” said Ruth, echoing Philip’s sentiments. 

“I tried avoiding him, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

“Are your feelings reciprocated?” said Philip. 

“I’m not sure, he seems to like me. I thought when I saw him today there was a sign...” Alan put the beer bottle down and stood up. “I’m fed up with thinking about what he might think and what I think I’m going to do about it. I’m going to take action. The only thing I know for sure is he’s unlikely to make the first move, so I’m going to.”

“Can’t you leave it until tomorrow? You haven’t unpacked your belongings yet,” said Philip. He didn’t want to be stuck trying to negotiate Alan’s stuff and if it went well with this man it could mean he’d be left living in a tip for days. 

Alan gave him a cryptic smile. “I might not need to unpack.” There was an equal chance Rigsby could throw him out for making a pass at him, but better that than being in limbo, he’d get over the rejection eventually, he supposed. “Wish me luck,” he said and left the room. 

* * * * 

Rigsby was standing next to the sink mushing up cat food with a fork. “Come and get your din dins, Vienna. It’s the finest cat mush the supermarket has to offer.” The cat jumped off the sofa and meowed, anxious to be fed. “Yes, it’s nice to have Alan back isn’t it? He’s my favourite student tenant. It’s not the same talking to Phil, he’s not as lovable is he? Don’t tell him, though. Besides, if you did spill, I’d tell him I meant he’s a lovable loser, after all, he’s split with that tasty bird of his. Do you think he meant it when he said he missed me? He sounded very heartfelt. I’ll let him borrow my fire the next time I’m away on holiday. I’d like to think I was keeping him warm at night.” He laughed at his own joke and was about to place the bowl of cat food on the floor, when Alan walked in, unannounced.

“Rigsby, I...” Alan hesitated.

“Yes?” said Rigsby. Vienna rubbed himself against his legs to hint that food was needed immediately.

I what? Love you? That was a bit strong, thought Alan. He should save those three little words until they were an item. What about I’m attracted to you? That was true, but as the object of his affection was holding a bowl of stinky cat food and covered in cat hair it would take the sincerity out of his voice. I think there’s a spark between us? Too vague?

Rigsby put the cat food down and went up to Alan and waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello, Earth to Alan, anyone in there?”

Argh, this was hard. He should have waited until he’d come up with the perfect sentence to make Rigsby fall into his arms, instead of rushing in. He was useless at making the first move. Stuff words, thought Alan, and took advantage of Rigsby’s proximity to grab him for a kiss. Rigsby wrenched himself out of his hold with a strength he didn’t know he had. What other hidden talents would he have? His reaction suggested Alan wouldn’t find out, though.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rigsby had jumped back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in shock. 

Alan was in shock too, mostly because he didn’t know where the courage to pounce on Rigsby had come from. Brain not quite engaged he said, “I didn’t think you were so out of practice to not know when someone was kissing you.”

“Out of practice! Listen to him, he finally gets his leg over and he thinks he’s Casanova. I preferred you when you were hopeless, I’ll not have any sex maniacs living here. And you still haven’t told me what you thought you were doing.” He’d put a chair from the table between him and Alan, possibly to use as a weapon if Alan got frisky again.

Alan rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and looked away, briefly. “Er, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have jumped on you without warning that was, er, rude of me.” Alan smiled apologetically. “It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.” He reached out towards him.

This didn’t have the effect of smoothing down Rigsby’s ruffled feathers, his face found a new way to look appalled. He slapped his hand away. “I’ll smack you in the face next.”

“Yeah, that’s disrespectful, isn’t it? Sorry, again. I won’t try it on again, unless you want me to. Er, I’ll put my arms behind my back.”

“You don’t need arms to kiss someone.” 

“Was that an invitation?”

“No,” said Rigsby, although he didn’t need to say so with the scowl on his face. 

“I didn’t mean to do that, but I didn’t know what to say.” Alan was still apologetic. He should write a book: ‘How to Mess Things Up’ by a complete idiot.

“How about ‘Hello there, do you know I have a strange desire to kiss you, but I won’t act on it as I’m not a sex crazed nutter.’ That seems simple enough to me.”

“I don’t just want to kiss you.”

Rigsby’s eyes widened.

“I like your personality too,” Alan added quickly. He didn’t want Rigsby to think he was completely driven by lust. 

Rigsby laughed sharply. “Trying to find my personality with your tongue down the back of my throat were you?”

Alan reddened. 

“I’m a bloke, anyway, what do you want to be kissing me for?”

“I had noticed. It wouldn’t matter to me if you were a bird or a bloke.”

Rigsby opened and shut his mouth soundlessly, before stuttering out the words, “But it’s wrong.”

“It felt right to me, more right than kissing my ex, well, for one second. Besides, I’ve always thought you were fond of me in your own way. I’m fond of you.”

“There’s a difference between fond and fancying!” said Rigsby and, he hoped, covered himself in case Alan had been listening at the door, when he’d been talking to Vienna. 

“I thought there was a difference between the two, until I moved out and I realised I what I felt for you wasn’t friendship, but something more.”

“If you’re so in love with me why haven’t I seen hide nor hair of you for the past year? You didn’t even send a Christmas card,” sniffed Rigsby. He took it hard when he didn’t get a card, it wasn’t as if he got many.

“That’s why I stayed away, I didn’t want to mess my relationship up, reasoning out of sight, out of mind. Instead, absence made the heart grow fonder.”

“I always thought you weren’t the full shilling.” Rigsby shook his head.

“Why shouldn’t I fall for you?” challenged Alan.

Rigsby gave a short bark of incredulous laughter. 

“I notice you haven’t done what I thought you would do.”

“And what’s that?” said Rigsby leaning on the chair.

“You haven’t told me to beat it, that you’re not queer, it’s women every time for you and I can find somewhere else to rent.”

“You might have been living in sin, but you’re still a naive idiot, it wouldn’t be fair to treat you harshly.”

“Aha, see, I knew you were fond of me,” said Alan, smugly. 

“And as I said before fond not fancy! This is ridiculous.” Rigsby threw up his hands and paced back and forth wanting this conversation to go away.

“Why shouldn’t you fancy me? I’m young, fit...”

Rigsby snorted at this.

“Hey! And I’ve been told I’m quite pretty for a bloke, actually.” Alan stepped towards him and battered his eyelashes comically. “Don’t you think?”

Rigsby smiled momentarily at Alan’s actions, before pushing him back. “Well, I’m not young and my beauty is unrecognised by the masses.” Obviously, he was the most handsome man around, but people had no taste these days, and then his real thoughts butted in telling him he wasn’t and also why was he refusing Alan when he did like him?

“Yeah, but were those who didn’t take any notice worth snogging?”

“No, when I come to think of it.” 

“I’m not bothered by the age gap and you look fine to me.”

“You’re not giving up are you?” 

“Not unless you look me straight in the eyes and tell me you don’t have any feelings for me and kissing me would make you feel sick.” Alan backed off and gave him some space to deal with his emotions.

“Um,” said Rigsby, conflicted by what he wanted and what his upbringing had told him he should want. 

“Feelings are scary, but if we stayed afraid of taking a risk on our feelings the human race would have died out long ago.”

“If we were a couple we wouldn’t help the survival of the human race. I don't rate your chances as a doctor if you can't spot an obvious medical impossibility” pointed out Rigsby and gave a relaxed laugh. 

“Are you going to tell me to get lost or what?” pouted Alan, who had been trying to sound all wise and worldly. 

“Feelings are terrifying, but you’re not,” said Rigsby and smiled at him as he gently tugged at the front of Alan’s jumper. Alan smiled back and leaned in for a kiss that was very much wanted.


End file.
